


Of Roses And Thorns

by steampunkmagic



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Human, Domestic Violence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:08:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2211786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/steampunkmagic/pseuds/steampunkmagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, flower shop owner, Monroe's life is turned on its head when a beautiful woman hiers him as the florist for her wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Roses And Thorns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WolfStar4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfStar4/gifts).



**~Daffodil~**

                Thursdays, he was never much of a fan of Thursdays.  Monroe started up his old yellow WV Beetle with a sigh.  Nothing ever happened on Thursdays, he could sit behind the counter of his shop - Northwest Floral Designs - from sunup to sundown without a single person ever coming in.   But hell what did he expect running a flower shop in the 21st century?  People ordered bouquets online now, not that he didn't have a website, but competing with 1-800-flowers was hard. 

                What are you going to do?

                Wiping a tired hand over his face Monroe pulled out of the driveway and headed towards downtown.  The drive from his small two bedroom home to his shop's location thankfully only took about 15 minutes, which was good because any longer and his morning coffee got cold.  Said location was perfect for several reasons - rent wasn't one of them.   First because parking in Portland was famous for being a nightmare, but Monroe knew the owner of the closest public lot.   Bud agreed to give him a major discount in exchange for a monthly supply of lilies for his wife. 

                 Sliding into one of the open spaces he killed the engine and clambered out, his large frame making it difficult as always.   No matter how many times he hit his head Monroe would never trade in his beloved car.  It was a classic and they didn't make 'em like that anymore.   Cars shouldn't have more computers than your house.

                Besides parking, his shop's location also had the added benefit of being on the same block as a police precinct.  It was great for preventing crime in the area but had the bigger plus of being where his best friend worked.  And since Mr. Big Shot Detective Nick Burkhardt had an alarming tendency to forget to eat food unless his girlfriend handed it to him directly, Monroe took it upon himself to bring the idiot breakfast in the morning.  Before Juliette came along this apparently sparked all sorts of interesting rumors in the police break rooms, much to his amusement.  Nick always just turned pink and rolled his eyes.

                Today was much the same as any other.  Monroe nodded to Sergeant Wu, who opened the door for him, then tossed a toasted bagel in a paper bag at Nick's head.  Nick caught it without looking single handedly displaying the almost unnatural reflexes he'd had since they were kids. 

                "Morning to you too." Nick grinned.

                Monroe ignored him and handed a cup of coffee to his partner Hank instead.  "World ending yet?"

                "Nope." The handsome dark skinned man replied with a slight smile.  It was Monroe's usual greeting.

                "Unless you count the werewolf."

                "What?" He raised an incredulous eyebrow at his friend.

                Hank stepped in before his partner could invent any tall tales.  "Meth head wearing shag carpeting as a coat."

                Oh yeah that explained _everything_.  Man, he was glad he didn't have to deal with the crap they did every day.  Boring Thursdays were way better than whatever the hell that was.  "Is that the new look for spring then?"

                The detectives laughed.  "In this town, probably."

               

 

 

 

 

                Around noon Nick brought him some mysterious noodle dish he picked up while on a case in Chinatown by way of repayment.   It was quite good even if he couldn't tell what it was exactly.   Eating carefully so as not to get any sweet-n-sour sauce on his sweater vest, he listened to Nick talk about the new cadet he and Hank were getting pair up with. 

                "Trubel's smart for a rookie."

                "Wait I thought her name was Theresa?"

                "Theresa Rubel, but everyone's now started calling her Trubel."  He shrugged with a wry grin.  "It's fitting and she seems to like it."

                Monroe made a sarcastic face.  "Aww look at you getting all attached." He teased, knowing his friend's protective big brother streak.

                Nick flicked a noodle at his head (with a fork since the heathen couldn't use chopsticks).  "Shut up."

                He dodged the offending pasta, chuckling.

                 It really wasn't surprising people have been mistaking them for a couple since high school, despite him being a member of chess club and Nick the Captain of the Football team.  Kinda flattering when you think about it.  They met way back -he's not going to count just _how_ _far_ back - in elementary school when they got in a fist fight over a misunderstand and have been friends ever since.  

                Also he's been trying to stop Nick from accidentally killing himself doing something stupid ever since too.  No one got into more harebrained schemes then he did.  Monroe almost had a stroke when he announced he was going to be a cop.  Nick tried to get him to join up too but Monroe preferred a quiet, danger free existence.  So he took over his father's flower business instead, no dodging bullets there.

                After a few minutes Nick's phone rang dragging him back to work and leaving Monroe with no more excuses not to finish an order for a baby shower.  Not that he didn't love his work, but after the valentine's rush and before mother's day it could get dull some times.  Thursdays...

                The bell on the door rang causing Monroe to glance up from the peonies he was arranging.  Customers did not drop in very often so he tried to greet them personally right away.  It was good business sense.  Two people slipped inside, a man and a woman, their eyes traveling around the room curiously.  

                "Good Morning." Monroe called stepping out from behind the counter.  "Is there anything I can help you with today?"

                The woman turned to face him and he had to stop his mouth from dropping open like a fool.  She was singularly beautiful, but in a homespun kind of way.   It was natural and without effort, from her cream skin to her bright chocolate eyes.   Monroe tried not to swallow his tongue. 

                Then she said the absolute last thing he wanted to hear.

                "We need a florist for our wedding."

                Crap.

                The man - her finance presumably - stepped forward to wrap his arm around her waist possessively.  Monroe didn't know if that's because he noticed his staring or not.   He quickly schooled his features into a neutral expression, ogling customers that was _bad_ business sense. 

                "You've come to the right place then." Snapping back into his helpful professional persona, Monroe led the couple over to his desk.  Pulling out two chairs for them and placing a few design booklets of the table, he introduced himself properly.

                The man seemed to regard him for a moment, his square jaw serious - perhaps wedding planning stress was getting to him?  "I'm Ian Harmon and this is my fiancé Rosalee."

                Rosalee smiled but didn't speak.

                "It's a pleasure to meet you."  He said, settling into his own chair across from them.  "Now did you have anything specific in mind already?  Type? Color scheme?"

                Rosalee opened her mouth but glanced at Ian before speaking.  Odd.  "I was thinking pink and white for love and purity.  Though nothing too expensive, we have to keep the budget."

                He smiled reassuringly.  "I think we've got several options that will meet those needs." 

                There was something off here but he didn’t know what.  They seemed like any other couple that came into his shop every week.  Hell he could just be jealous - Ian really lucked out.   Maybe Nick was right, he needs to get out more. 

                They went through a few photo books of arrangements and he quickly learned several things about her.  She liked roses and gardenia.  Whimsical things and pastel colors made her eyes light up.  She bit her lip while thinking.

                And she didn't love him.

                When you work with relationships all day long you get pretty good at reading those kinds of things.  Rosalee held his hand and listened when Ian spoke but there was nothing more than that.  No real affection, as if she was playing a role which had been handed to her in a script.  They were like the idealist yet unrealistic couple from a 1950's sitcom.  Too perfect, too put together, too cardboard.

                Monroe didn't know what to make of it.  

                "If the wedding isn't for two months you have plenty of time to decide." He said watching her trying to deliberate over three different options.  Ian never had any input he simply sat there beside her.  "Why don't you take these home and think it over?  You can compare them with all your other plans to see what works best."

                "Oh thank you!"  Rosalee glanced up from the photos at him - his heart _didn't_ stutter, not at all.

                "No problem.  Weddings are big decisions; you never want to make choices unless you're sure."  Oh why did he say that?  Mental hitting himself, Monroe hoped it still sounded like he was talking about flowers and nothing that was none of his business.   He didn't know her from Adam.

                Gathering up the photos and some leaflets on pricing and delivery Monroe bowed the couple out of the shop.  He watched Ian take her hand firmly as they stepped out onto the sidewalk.  She didn't look back. 

                Okay he needed a beer.

 

 

 

 

 

                Rosalee spread out her paperwork on the coffee table.   She had all her notes for the wedding organized and color coded.  Sipping a mug of steaming jasmine tea she let her mind drift.  Wedding planning was exhausting, but Ian said they had to have one when she suggested they simply elope.  Their families needed to be there and wouldn't she regret not getting the fairytale wedding?  'People will think I can't take care of you'.  

                She sighed.  At least the florist, Monroe, had been helpful.  He didn’t try to pressure her into buying the most expensive package like the caterers did.  He was cute too, in a scruffy sort of way. 

                "What are you thinking about?" Ian's voice broke into her thoughts as he came in from the garage. 

                Her cheeks colored slightly.  "Just flowers."

                "Flowers?" His tone was suspicious prompting Rosalee to jump up and thread her arms around his neck before he could get upset. 

                "Does Indian sound good tonight?" She switched subjects with a quick kiss.

                He frowned in annoyance.  "Take out again?  That's the third time this week.  It's not like you even work, yet you can't find time to cook a simple meal?"

                "I've - I've just been busy."

                Ian pushed her away sharply making her stumble against the couch.  "Oh save it, I've heard it before.  Go call the stupid number."

                Rosalee nodded then fled into the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**~Tuberose~**     

 

 

                No he was not staring at the door. 

                No he was not waiting for her to come back. 

                No he was not that big of an idiot. 

                Slumped in the uncomfortable old chair behind his oak desk Monroe tapped his pen against his knee in an absent rhythm.  Four days had passed and his gaze was burning a hole in the opposite wall.  This was getting ridiculous, he knew that, but he could not stop thinking about the woman Rosalee.  Her soft smile, chocolate hair that sparkled with fiery highlights, her - oh dear lord with sounded horribly like poetry or heaven forbid the beginning of a country song. 

                This had to simply be because he had not been on a date in years.  Monroe survived fine on his own.  He had his house, his car, his shop; he did not need someone to share it with.   Being alone wasn't lonely if you had work and a good book.  He never once felt as if he were missing anything so why would now be any different? 

                Grumbling Monroe gave himself a mental shake and tried to force all thoughts of Rosalee from his mind.  Maybe next time Nick wanted to set him up on a date he would say yes, just to get it out of his system.   In the mean time he had two baby showers and a funeral to deal with - there had to be a joke in there somewhere. 

                A large industrial refrigerator rested somewhat imposingly in the back of the small shop filled with various flowers and plants for making arrangements.  It was only ever stocked with what Monroe needed for his current orders and a selection of roses for the hapless husband who came running in having for gotten an anniversary or a birthday. 

                A chilled fog rolled out to coil around his ankles and snake over the wood flooring when Monroe opened the glass doors.  For the funeral which had a much bigger order he pulled out bouquets of poppies and dark crimson roses along with a few sprigs of rosemary from the herb drawer.   He only needed baby's breath and daisies for the showers so he decided to work on those later.   Those would only take minutes. 

                Setting up shop on the scared table beside his desk Monroe quickly set to work grateful for the mental distraction.   Though he had barely raised his pruning shears when the front door opened.  Figuring it was Nick with his new shadow Monroe glanced up.

                "Hello again."  Rosalee smiled meekly from where she stood haloed by the light shining through the open door.  This was how he pictured angels when his mother took him to church as a child.  Sweet, somehow sorrowful, and fully of blinding beauty. 

                Boy he was turning into a poet.

                Quickly setting aside his work Monroe jumped to his feet.  Keep it cool, do not act like an idiot and scare her off.  _Do not.  She is engaged._

                "Rosalee."  He ushered her in with a gentle smile.  Helpful, friendly shop owner persona - check.   He could do this. 

                "You remembered." Her smile widened as she stepped closer. 

                "Of course.  Did you and your fiancé decided on something?"

                  He felt compelled to mention Ian before she got any closer or his heart might beat right out of his chest like a Looney Tunes episode.  How could one woman affect him so?  Even when he was a teenager with Angelia, and her motorcycle and tight black leather pants, Monroe never felt this light headed attraction. 

                The light in Rosalee's eyes dimmed at his words and she lifted a hand to rub her forearm absently.   "Yes.  We decided to go with the third option with the white, pink, and gold arrangements."    

                "Excellent."

 

 

 

 

 

 

                She kept coming back though she did not need to.  Monroe knew that she knew all the details were already selected yet Rosalee always found some reason to stop by his shop.  He wanted to believe she was coming for him but that was ridiculous.   Though when she smiled at him it was impossible not to dream.  

                 Today it was a question about the delivery.   Of course the answer got ignored in favor of discussing their favorite books.  They both loved escapist fantasy from Harry Potter to The Dresden Files and the classics like the Grimm's Tales and Pride and Prejudice.   

                "I love happy endings." Rosalee said softly, her expression an odd mixture of wistfulness and melancholy while she played with a yellow tulip between her fingers. 

                There was that haunted nature about her.   Sometimes it was like the brilliant flame of her personality faded as if it her merely a photography taken long ago lost to dust and time.  The world around seemed to dim with her like her sadness stole the light of the world.  

                And Monroe hated it.  He hated where ever it was she went in her mind that caused her pain.  Rosalee never said anything but he thought he knew what was wrong.  From the constant phone calls to check in to meekness in her he saw when she was with her fiancé.  It was Ian. 

                 The man was an overbearing asshole who did not deserve her. 

                "What's wrong?"  Monroe asked reaching out to place a comforting hand on her arm. 

                Rosalee winced at the touch, a soft hiss escaping her lips.  Monroe looked at her surprised as an embarrassed and ashamed flush spread over her cheeks.  Deliberately but slowly so as not to scare her, he pushed up her sleeve to expose the mottled flesh of her forearm.   Purple and greenish bruising wrapped around the arm in a sickening contrast to her cream colored skin.  

                Rosalee trembled as his eyes returned to her abruptly.  The usual blush of her skin drained away to the ice of snowy winter and tears grew in the corners of her eyes.

                "Did he do this to you?"

                "Monroe."

                "Did he?"

                She pulled her arm back and yanked the sleeve down self-consciously.  "Please leave it Monroe."

                "No!  He can't treat you like that!"  He could not believe this.  Rosalee was a smart, strong woman how could she just stay with someone who hurt her?  It didn't make sense. 

                 She just shook her head sadly curling in on herself. 

                "Rosalee?" He cupped her cheek forcing her to meet his imploring gaze.

                She sighed softly leaning into his touch looking up at him from under her lashes.  Suddenly she seemed so young, so fragile.   And before Monroe knew what was happening her lips were on his.   Soft and warm and overwhelming and he did not know what to do.  

                Before Monroe could even respond to the kiss Rosalee broke away with a terrified expression.

                "Oh god, I have to go!"

 

 

 

 

**~Marigold~**

 

                Rosalee could not understand why he cared so much, he hardly knew her.  Yet it felt like they had known each other their whole lives - she knew how cheesy and clichéd romance novel that sounded but it was true.   Monroe was sweet and gentle and everything she had ever wanted.   It felt so good to be with him so she used any excuse to see him no matter how thin and silly.  But Ian was getting suspicious and that scared her.

                The worse thing was that he had reason to be.

                  She could still remember the taste of Monroe's lips, the genuine concern in his eyes.  He didn't understand why she stayed with Ian and some days Rosalee didn't either.  But he wasn't always like this, he used to be sweet and gentle too.  He used to buy her flowers and pick her up after school to go see a movie.  They laughed and talked and dance and it was wonderful.  He was the perfect boyfriend but that all changed.  It did not happen overnight by any means but she knew when it started.  The day after prom- or specifically the day after prom night.    Rosalee saw the night she lost her virginity one the best of her life, Ian saw it as a reason to suddenly become jealous of every boy she knew.   

                He needed to know where she had been and where she was going.  He started calling her phone at odd hours just to make sure she would pick up.  Rosalee didn't like it but she loved him.  The thought of life without Ian made it hard to breathe and the room would spin as if all the oxygen had been sucked out.  She thought it was just a phase and he would get over it.  But that never happened.

                It just got worse.

                It took a year for him to hit her.  Ian went out to a bar with some of his buddies from work that night.  He always went out to bars and strip clubs and god only knows what else with those cavemen-like idiots on the weekends.  But heaven forbid Rosalee even went out shopping without telling him before hand - the moment she came back he would freak out and accuse her of cheating on him.  Sometimes he would scream and throw things, other times he would turn the violence inward and threaten to kill himself if she ever left.   It terrified her and she never knew what to do.   Over time Rosalee realized what he needed - to prove that she belong to him.  So she'd kiss him and let Ian shove her forcefully into the bedroom. The whole thing was because she dropped a glass of iced tea.  She was setting the table for dinner and her hand slipped, as simple as that. 

                 Rosalee was so busy staring at the shattered glass she never saw his hand coming. 

                She didn't see it this time either.

                Trying to find the house keys in the mess of her purse Rosalee stood outside her green front door oblivious to the world.  A creak on the steps was her only warning before her head was slammed forward into the hard wood frame.  White pain blossomed across her vision.  Rosalee collapsed onto the porch with a surprised cry. 

                "Get up you little tramp." Hissed a voice as rough arms dragged her back to her feet.

                A cut had opened above her left eye; she could already feel the hot liquid running down the side of her face. 

                "Let me go."  She struggled against Ian's iron grip in vein, still dazed.  He pulled her down the steps away from the house making her stumbled and nearly fall again.

                "You think you can leave me you little bitch?  Think again you belong to me."  He wasn't making any sense, talking to himself furiously.  Wrenching open the door to his truck he shoved her inside.

                "Ian, baby, what are you doing?"  Rosalee asked desperately watching him pull a length of white cotton rope from the glove compartment.  He'd gone completely insane. 

                He tied her wrists quickly before finally pausing.  Ian touched her face softly not seeming to notice when she flinched away.  There were tears in his eyes and she'd never seen him so devastated, not even when he threatened to kill himself.   It terrified her. 

                "This is the only way." He said sadly.  "You were going to leave me."

                "No I wasn't.  I'll never leave you I promise!  Please just let's go back inside."

                "No!" Ian switched from grief to anger in a lighting flash.  "I saw you!  I saw you with him!"

                Rosalee's eyes widened in horror.  He must have been following her.  How could she have been so stupid?  Oh god, what he hurt Monroe?  She couldn't live with herself knowing she'd caused it.

                "But you can't leave me."  He repeated withdrawing a 9mm for the inside of his jacket.  "Now we're going for a drive."

 

 

 

 

 

 

               

**~Ambrosia~**

 

                "Nick something is wrong."  Monroe barged into the station break room making the police officer raise a questioning eyebrow. 

                "What is it?" Nick set down his cup of over brewed coffee obviously noting the panic on his friend's face.  Monroe was never one for overt displays of emotion.

                "It's Rosalee."  He said, brow furrowing with concern.

                That got Nick's attention.  Monroe had told him all about his certain conflict of interest where Rosalee was concerned.  His friend was less than impressed with his panting after an engaged woman since it was 'only going to leave him miserable'.  But this was way bigger than his supposed delicate feelings.

                "She ran out of the shop so I went to go check on her and apologize."  Monroe began hurriedly.

                Nick shot him an incredulous expression.  "You went to where her fiancée lives?"

                "Okay, yeah, stupid plan in retrospect but the fuck is abusive and I had to do something!"

                "Wait did she tell you this?"

                "No I saw the marks.  Just trust me on this man, she is terrified of him."  Monroe waved his arms impatiently. 

                Nick placed a calming hand on his shoulder.  "Okay, so you went to see her then what?"

                Monroe paled at the thought of the sight he found at Rosalee's front door.  "There- There was blood on the door frame and the porch steps.  Her keys were just laying there.  He did something to her!  I know he did!" 

                His friend grimaced.  "Why would he hurt her now?  Did she say anything?  Give any indication his violence was escalating?" 

                He fidgeted.  "…well there was a kiss."  Monroe mumbled. 

                Nick sighed rubbing the crease between his eyebrows.  "Yeah that could definitely set him off."  In a cloud of dark sarcasm he waved Monroe back to his desk.  "Do you have any idea where they would go?  Anything she mentioned?  A vacation spot, anything?"

                Monroe racked his brains in frustration.  "I don't think so - no."

                Nick sat down at his computer, pulling his keyboard closer.  "Give me her and Ian's full names and address."

                He gave Nick the information watching over his shoulder as he typed it in.  This was taking too long.  What he could not find her in time?  What it -? No.  Monroe stopped that train of thought before it went any further.  Rosalee was going to be alright.  She had to be alright - because he was in love with her.  And that made him about the biggest idiot on the planet.

                "Hey Mr. Monroe!" Theresa Rubel - or 'Trubel' as Nick called her - bounced up to them with her usual mischievous grin in place.  That is until she saw his expression.  "Geeze, who died?  … _Oh no_ , who died?"

                "No one but if you're up for a car ride I'll explain on the way."  Nick said jumping to his feet before Monroe could respond.

                "You found something?"

                "Ian owns a small cabin out by Tillamook Forest State Park."

                "Then what are we waiting for?"  Monroe took off for the door with Nick right behind him.

                The dark haired young cadet raced to catch up with them.  "Wait, who the fuck is Ian?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

                Rosalee opened her eyes and immediately felt sick to her stomach. She groaned trying to turn over only to find her hands and feet bound to a chair.  The cabin.  She was in the cabin.  The outdated and comfortably worn furniture and pale sunlight streaming through the windows felt violently at odds with her situation. 

                "Oh my god."

                "Rise and shine, honey."  Ian's dead voice pulled at her attention.  He was sitting in the old armchair across the room with his hands clenched onto the arm rests.  For some reason she was strongly reminded of The Godfather, which was less than comforting.

                "So what's the plan, Ian?" Rosalee hissed condescendingly. 

                Fear only lasted so long and she had been afraid for a long time.  Rosalee was done with that.  She could not magically will her heart not to beat in her ears, but she could get pissed - and right now she was pissed.  She put up with everything, never complained, never left, and she had no idea why.  Fear that was her problem.

                "You gonna leave me tied up in here?  Make sure I can't leave your pathetic ass?"  Antagonizing him certainly was not the smartest plan, but if felt really good at the moment.

                "Shut up."  He growled, nails digging into the fabric of the chair.

                "No."  Rosalee could feel her whole body trembling, but she just kept talking.  "This was the best plan you could come up with?  You, the self professed genius who only stayed here with your 'unfilled potential' to be with me?"

                Ian's eyes tightened, his lips pressed together turning white, and an angry flush crept up the back of his neck.  He was barely keeping himself in control.  Rosalee laughed openly, mockingly at him, like she was not the one tied to a chair. 

                "That's just sad." She smirked.

                "Shut up!  I said shut up!" Ian roared snapping like a rubber band stretched beyond its limit.  He jumped to his feet and marched towards her.

                Rosalee could not smirk anymore.  She pushed too far.  The hand that collided with her face nearly sent her to the floor.  The wooden chair rocked with the kinetic force as her cheek burned with the impact.

                "I said shut up."  He repeated quietly.  With that Ian turned and stormed out the door leaving Rosalee with nothing to do but wait for his return. 

                Time ticked by slowly or at least Rosalee thought it did.  She watched the shadows of the furniture move across the floor with the sun.  She guessed at least three hours had passed since she heard Ian's truck drive away.  He could have gotten to Seaside or Cannon Beach and back twice by now, or even to Hillsboro and back.  What was he doing, what the hell was keeping him?  Surely he was not planning on just leaving her there to starve?

                Slowly she managed to work the knots on her wrists loose.  It hurt like fuck, but rope burn hardly registered as an issue at this point.  Gritting her teeth, Rosalee pulled with everything she had.  Her right hand slipped free!  She froze in surprise at her small victory as the blood rushed back to her fingertips.  Rosalee let out a slightly hysterical laugh and began ripping off the binds on her ankles.

                A roar of an engine made her heart speed up painfully.  Oh God he was back!  She needed to get out of here, she needed a weapon!  Rosalee kicked her feet clear of the ropes and picked up the chair still bound to her left arm.  Setting her stance, Rosalee waited. 

                "Police! Open up!"  Yelled a voice banging on the cabin door.

                Rosalee almost dropped her impromptu weapon in surprise.  "I'm in here!"  She screamed.

                The door burst open, nearly swinging off its hinges, revealing a man she only knew via photographs in Monroe's office.  He had a gun drawn, eyes scanning the room for threats as a female officer did the same behind him. 

                "Are you alone?"

                "Yes.  I-I don't know where he went."  She did not even think to question how the police knew where she was, Rosalee was too concerned with the man now rushing into the cabin.

                "Monroe."

                "Oh my god."  Monroe ran forward, his hands fumbling as he tried to check her for injures and untie her wrist at the same time. 

                As soon as he touched her Rosalee finally started to cry.  Tears of stress relief poured down her face as she collapsed into his arms, breathing in his warm familiar scent and sobbing brokenly onto his shoulder.   "I think he was going to kill me." 

                Monroe held her tightly, stroking her hair and murmuring over and over that she was safe now.

                "Is she okay?" The young female officer asked Monroe's friend.

                "She's fine, or at least she will be in a minute or two."

                Monroe finally pulled back to look Rosalee over.  He focused on her red wrists and what she suspected was a large bruise on her face.  Outrage glowed in his soft brown eyes.

                "He's right."  Rosalee hiccupped through her tears.  "I'm okay. I'm okay"

                "I was so worried." He whispered before sighing and pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

                The simple gesture melted away the fear and pain clawing at her breast.  Rosalee smiled softly leaning into him.  She was safe now, except for…

                "What about Ian?"

                To her surprise Monroe's friend - Nick, if she remembered correctly - grinned.  "Already on his way to county lockup.  They picked him up on the APB I sent out outside Rockaway."

                "He can't hurt you anymore." Monroe reassured her.  "It's over now."

                Rosalee's gaze met his and she could not help thinking that, no this was only the beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Daffodil - ‘New Beginnings, Misfortune’ 
> 
> Gardenia - ‘You’re lovely, Secret love’
> 
> Rose - ‘Love, Perfection’
> 
> Tuberose - 'Dangerous Pleasure'
> 
> Poppy - 'Eternal Sleep, Oblivion'
> 
> Dark Crimson Rose - 'Mourning'
> 
> Rosemary - 'Remembrance' 
> 
> Baby’s Breath - 'Innocence'
> 
> Daisy - 'Innocence, Eternal Love'
> 
> Yellow Tulip - 'Hopeless Love'
> 
> Marigold - 'cruelty, grief, jealousy, despair'
> 
> Ambrosia = 'Love is reciprocated'


End file.
